


Tattoo

by NewToTheWaywardParty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Post-Episode: s13e05 Advanced Thanatology, Post-Season 12, Tattoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 08:43:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14351970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewToTheWaywardParty/pseuds/NewToTheWaywardParty
Summary: Dean takes his prize and moves to retreat to his bedroom, shuffling towards the kitchen door. He jerks back, however, his robe’s belt caught on the kitchen drawer handle below the coffee maker. Dean yanks it back, irritated, and his robe falls open, draping off one shoulder.That’s when Cas sees it.





	1. Chapter 1

Cas turns the steaming hot mug of coffee in his hands. Sure, it only tastes like molecules, not roasted bean flavoring to him, but it gives him something to do. Now that he’s back, he finds the times when Dean and Sam are asleep discomforting. Cas never minded being alone in the past. Now, after the Empty… **  
**

Dean stumbles into the kitchen, stops short when he sees Cas. Squints at him in a wordless question. Cas nods. “There’s coffee,” Cas confirms. Dean busies himself pouring a cup, then leans against the counter sipping it, eyes half closed. He’s in a bathrobe, loosely tied over a white tank top and dark boxer briefs. Cas tries not to stare at the semicircle of anti-posession tattoo peeking out of the tank on Dean’s chest, the expanse of freckled thigh jutting forward through the fold of the robe.

Minutes tick by in companionable silence. They never need to say much. Dean gratefully sighs as he downs the dregs of his first cup and turns to refill his coffee mug. Cas knows he’s usually pretty worthless until he’s well into his second helping. Dean takes his prize and moves to retreat to his bedroom, shuffling towards the kitchen door. He jerks back, however, his robe’s belt caught on the kitchen drawer handle below the coffee maker. Dean yanks it back, irritated, and his robe falls open, draping off one shoulder.

That’s when Cas sees it.

Black ink. Feathers. A bird, in flight. Cas inhales sharply. The sight of the dark outlines on Dean’s pale, freckled skin affects him profoundly. Dean’s still fumbling with his robe, turning in a circle like a puppy chasing its tail, trying to catch the other end of the dangling belt in his sleepy stupor.

Cas can’t help himself. “When did you get a tattoo?” he asks. Dean startles a little; follows Cas’ gaze to his shoulder. He covers it with his robe quickly, cinching the belt firmly. Cas can see a faint flush rise in Dean’s cheeks.

“When you were…” Dean trails off and clears his throat. Cas watches, fascinated, as Dean’s soft morning rawness disappears into what Cas thinks of as the Dean Act. Performative posturing, all bravado and swagger. Dean slaps on a suggestive smirk and shrugs, turning to exit as he throws out: “Hey, you die for a few weeks, you’re bound to miss some good stuff, okay?”

Cas sits at the table for a long time. When he finally leaves the kitchen, the mug of coffee is cold in his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve come to understand” begins Cas, “that when humans are particularly reticent about a topic, it can indicate their reluctance to discuss a matter. Why do you and Dean seem so reluctant to discuss his tattoo?”

At the war table, Sam is alternating between books and laptop, searching for a way to find Jack. Cas is, of course, worried about finding and protecting his charge. He’s having trouble focusing, however. An image keeps rising, unbidden, to his brain. Black feathers on pale skin. Every time he remembers it, he has to catch his breath. **  
**

Cas tugs on his tie, which is suddenly feeling tight. “Sam, did you know Dean got a tattoo?”

Sam’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He presses his lips into a thin line and looks away from Cas before replying. “Yeah, I, uh, saw it.” Sam doesn’t elaborate. Cas isn’t sure how to ask what he wants to know.

“I’ve come to understand” begins Cas, “that when humans are particularly reticent about a topic, it can indicate their reluctance to discuss a matter. Why do you and Dean seem so reluctant to discuss his tattoo?” Cas pins Sam with a stare, one he knows the brothers to find discomfiting.

Sam swallows, shifting in his seat. The stare is clearly working, Cas thinks. “You don’t know what it was like when you were gone,” Sam’s tone is firm. “I’m just glad to see Dean happy again, so sorry we’re not jumping at the bit to relive how hard it was.” Sam says ‘sorry’ in a manner that tells Cas he’s not truly sorry at all.

Cas thinks he understands. “Dean got the tattoo because of emotional distress while I was gone,” he states, seeking confirmation from Sam “and now nobody wants to talk about when I was dead because it’s too painful?” Cas squints at Sam, hoping he got it right.

Sam clenches his jaw and Cas is surprised to see he looks angry. Cas had always got on pretty well with Sam, and was unfamiliar with being regarded with the kind of contempt the man was showing him now. Sam ground out, low: “Cas, when you died, you have no idea what it did to Dean. He was an empty shell. I had to watch him stab a needle in his chest and die because he didn’t care anymore.” Cas inhaled sharply at this, but Sam continued, rising from his chair and walking toward Cas while he spoke.

“Dean did what he saw our Dad do when Mom died. He gave himself over to his grief. He stopped caring about anything. I had to take care of him. He pushed away Jack because he blamed him for your death. So, sorry, Cas, but a tattoo is the least of my worries. And no, nobody wants to talk about it, okay?” Sam was standing less than a foot from Cas now, eyebrow raised in a challenge, using all of his tall frame to intimidate Cas. Message received-this was a touchy topic. Cas nodded, and Sam seemed to deflate a bit, backing off.

Sam left the research untouched to retreat to his room. Cas reflected on what Sam said. And on what he would see if he did sleep, if he did dream: the cosmic entity, mocking him.

_“I know who you love. I know what you fear.”_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You wanted to carry a physical memorial to me on your body permanently?” Cas clarifies, speaking quickly before Dean escapes.

Days pass. They follow a few leads on Jack, come up empty. Cas bites his tongue every time he wants to ask Dean about the tattoo. About what it means and why he got it. Sam still seems distant. He’s solicitous of Dean, enjoying his brighter moods and studiously avoiding any mention of the time Cas was dead. **  
**

Sam finally finds a real lead on Jack’s whereabouts. He asks Cas to update Dean while Sam begins packing up the Impala. Cas wanders the hallways of the bunker checking Dean’s room, the shooting range, and the kitchen before making his way to the small gym.

Cas hears the sounds of Dean’s grunts and dull thuds before he open the door. Dean’s fists are flying against the bag, encased in boxing gloves. He skitters around the bag in sneakers and sweats. Earbuds emit a tinny overflow sound of hard rock that Cas can hear even without his angel powers. And Dean is shirtless.

Cas pauses just inside the door, greedily taking in the view. From this angle, he can see the entire tattoo, beads of sweat trickling down it as Dean dances around the bag, dodging and weaving his imaginary opponent. Dean whirls to the other side of the bag and-

“What the fuck, Cas?!” Dean is nearly hit in the face by the bag’s rebound as he freezes, catching sight of Cas. He manages to halt the bag’s swing by hugging it in place, eyes wide. Dean pulls out his earbuds. “I thought we talked about sneaking up on people like that, man.” Dean sounds irritated, but there’s no bite to it.

Cas shrugs. “I didn’t sneak” he adds with a hint of a smile. “It’s not my fault you had your music up so loud you didn’t hear me.” He pauses, trying not to let his gaze drift over Dean’s chest to the tattoo. “I just wanted to tell you Sam’s alerts pinged a likely Jack-sighting in Iowa. He’s packing up the Impala now.” Cas’ eyes are pulled like magnets to the feathered wings. Dean follows Cas’ gaze.

“Why don’t you take a picture? It’ll last longer,” Dean does sound irritated now.

“I left my phone in my room” Cas explains, aware of the context of Dean’s jibe as well as his own stab at deliberately too-literal humor. If Dean’s going to ‘give him shit’ about looking, Cas can reciprocate.

Dean rolls his eyes and turns his back on Cas, walking towards a pile of belongings on the weight bench. Cas gathers his courage and asks “is it supposed to be me?” hoping Dean realizes he’s talking about the bird tattoo and won’t pretend he doesn’t understand what Cas wants to know.

Dean chuckles uncomfortably, running a small towel over his face and shoulders, brushing against the ink with the white terrycloth. “It probably seems dumb. Not like, you-you. I didn’t know what your true form looked like and I was pretty drunk but not nearly drunk enough to get a tattoo of your vessel…” Dean trails off. “The bird was just…something to remember you by.”

Cas feels something stir in his chest at that. But he needs to know. There are so many opportunities to misunderstand Dean, who is not plain in his emotions or his speech. “You feared you would forget about me without a tattoo.” Cas says, trying this idea out.

Dean is pulling his t-shirt back on and is caught with it over his head when Cas speaks. A muffled “No!” comes from inside the shirt before Dean’s head pops out the neck hole, hair damp and spiky with sweat. “I would never forget you…it’s like…” Dean is struggling, inarticulate. He takes a breath, tries again. “It’s like a memorial. Like having a piece of you with me” Dean grabs his towel and phone up from the bench, before adding “always.” Dean starts towards the door and Cas has to restrain himself from throwing Dean against a wall to keep him from escaping the conversation.

“You wanted to carry a physical memorial to me on your body permanently?” Cas clarifies, speaking quickly before Dean escapes.

Dean whirls on him, defensive. “Hey! It’s a thing people do. Like, soldiers and gang members and shit. It’s totally a thing.” he repeats, before backing out the door, eyes wild.

Like the topic of Cas’ death, Cas senses this topic is extremely sensitive for Dean. He reviews what he knows so far about it, approaching it as if it were a case. One: Dean got a tattoo while Cas was dead. Two: Sam says Dean was very upset when Cas died. Three: the tattoo appears to be a memorial of some kind to Cas, specifically. Four: Dean is very defensive of his need to memorialize Cas in this manner.

This is the part of the case where Sam and Dean would theorize on possible monsters and/or their motives, given the facts at hand. Cas can feel a potential hypothesis formulating in his head. It makes his heart pound and his brain race. He needs to be sure, needs to gather more data. Because when he thinks about this hypothesis, all he can see is the cosmic entity’s bullying face:

_“There is nothing back there for you, no.”_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas continues. “Dean says he got the tattoo to ‘remember me by.’” Cas doesn’t use the air quotes but thinks them, nonetheless. “But I noticed the other day when you changed into a clean shirt at the motel that you did not have one.” Cas tilts his head. “At least not in a location visible on your torso.” Sam makes a noise halfway between choking and coughing, but Cas persists.

Cas finds Sam in the war room again. He looks even wearier than usual. The last lead did not pan out, after all. Cas knows Sam identifies strongly with Jack, with his struggle against the darkness within. Not being able to find and help Jack has Sam feeling responsible and guilty, in that trademarked Winchester way. Cas thinks this explains Sam’s reaction when Cas asks him about the tattoo again. **  
**

“Again with the tattoo? Really, Cas?” Sam is glaring at him over the top of an open, heavy tome that he looks perilously close to hurling. “Don’t you think you should be talking to Dean about this?”

Cas remains calm. “You and I both know he won’t.” Sam sighs his assent at this. “I merely wanted to seek understanding about your culture’s remembrance rituals.” Sam purses his lips, nods once tersely.

Cas continues. “Dean says he got the tattoo to ‘remember me by.’” Cas doesn’t use the air quotes but thinks them, nonetheless. “But I noticed the other day when you changed into a clean shirt at the motel that you did not have one.” Cas tilts his head. “At least not in a location visible on your torso.” Sam makes a noise halfway between choking and coughing, but Cas persists. “So I was wondering why Dean would memorialize me in this manner but you wouldn’t.” Cas waits patiently for the response.

Sam looks down and sighs. Then he looks up at the bunker ceiling, as if expecting to find the answer written there. Cas actually follows his gaze, looking curiously at the ceiling, surprised when Sam speaks. “I guess it’s that whole ‘profound bond’ thing, Cas, I mean…I was sad you died, too, but…” Sam’s speech slows, then grinds to a halt. Cas looks down from the ceiling to see Sam fix him with an angry stare.

“No.” Sam shakes his head side to side, making his long hair sway. “You know what? I’m done with this.” Sam slams the lid of the laptop closed. “Cas, you’re a nice guy, and I like you, really I do, but I’ve had enough of your shit.”

Cas reels back on his heels as if Sam had smacked him physically.

Sam continues. “I’m sick of your ‘I’m just a dumb angel who doesn’t understand humanity’ act.” Sam crosses his arms in front of his chest. “If you don’t feel the same way Dean does, or you can’t, or whatever, that’s fine. Just have the goddamn decency not to pretend for one fucking second that you don’t know why he got a tattoo for you and I didn’t. It’s not fair to him. Okay?”

Sam stalks past Castiel down the hallway and Cas is left with his confusion and his initial hypothesis, now blossoming into a full-blown theory. He’s shaking, with hope and anxiety and fear. He told the entity he would fight it for eternity. He chose to live, knowing Dean might never choose him back. Cas had never considered what would happen if Dean did. He had never dared to.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean swallows and asks “Show me?” in a tight voice that makes Cas’ breath catch in his throat.

Cas finds Dean in his room, drinking a beer in bed, writing in what looks suspiciously like a leather-bound journal. Dean quickly stashes it before throwing Cas a questioning look. “What’s up? Sammy found another lead?”

Cas shakes his head. “I came to ask you if I could borrow some money.” Dean raises an eyebrow. Cas doesn’t eat or have other physical needs, so he has no need for currency. “And if you would give me a ride to town.” Dean’s eyebrows shoot even higher.

“O-kay” Dean makes the word two syllables, clearly curious. “What’s the occasion, big spender?” Dean attempts a lascivious grin.

Cas says “I want to get a tattoo.” The grin falls instantly off Dean’s face.

Dean swallows and it looks to Cas as though some sort of argument is going on inside Dean’s head. Finally he settles on asking “Are we going with anti-possession or….”

“No. With my angel powers back in full, I have no need of that,” answers Cas.

“Oh.” Dean’s quiet for a moment. Then: “Can you even get a tattoo? Jack healed his spontaneously.”

Cas acknowledged this with a half-shrug. “If he had more control over his powers…” Cas debated how much to tell Dean. How much a tattoo would hurt an angel using its powers to not heal it. To leave a scar, untouched, painful and grating, for all of its existence. He decided upon discretion. “It’s possible for an angel to choose not to heal a tattoo.”

Dean nods. “Oh,” he repeats. Dean still hasn’t made any move to get off his bed or any other movement towards actually getting this tattoo process started. Cas is a bit confused. He had thought his request would explain to Dean that his feelings are reciprocated. Perhaps Dean is more resistant to a relationship with him than he even fears. For the first time, Cas feels the silence between them becoming uncomfortable instead of intimate. Dean wets his lips quickly, then asks “so, uh, what are you gonna get?”

Cas exhales, suddenly relieved. This is an opening, one he had been hoping for. “I was actually hoping for your advice,” he begins. Dean brightens at this, and almost jumps off the bed. Cas takes a couple of steps forward.

“I had thought, perhaps an animal,” Cas starts, and Dean nods, eagerly.

“Yeah, cool” he agrees. “Something tough.”

“Yes,” nods Cas. “But I can’t decide which animal best represents you. A wolf seemed appropriate somehow, but I also like the idea of a-”

“Wait, me?” Dean interjects. “Sorry, what?” Cas’ speech screeches to a halt, confronted by the confusion and shock on Dean’s face.

Cas looks at Dean almost pityingly, concerned about the man’s lack of ability to follow this simple conversation. “Yes. You, Dean.”

“You wanna get a tattoo” Dean repeats slowly “for me.” Dean’s tone is like a statement, but his intent is clearly a question.

Cas nods. “It seemed appropriate. After you explained yours, I realized I, too, would like to carry a piece of you permanently on my vessel’s skin.”

Dean’s mouth drops open. He stares at Cas, clearly overcome.

Cas continued. “I thought perhaps a tattoo of the amulet, because it symbolizes my faith in and commitment to you when my faith in God was lost.”

Dean’s mouth is opening and closing, but no speech is coming out. Cas plows on, determined. “I wasn’t sure you’d like that idea, though, since it meant so much between you and Sam first, and I don’t like the idea of you being reminded of your brother when you see it. I would place it where the amulet would lie if I wore it, here, next to my heart.” Cas points at a spot on his chest where the second button of his shirt lies over his sternum. He can feel his heart racing, and realizes he’s been rambling, covering Dean’s conspicuous silence with his own chatter.

Dean stumbles a step towards Cas and licks his lips again, a habit Cas has noticed Dean seems to indulge in whenever they are physically close.

Dean swallows and asks “Show me?” in a tight voice that makes Cas’ breath catch in his throat.

Cas holds Dean’s eyes as he loosens the tie around his neck, pulling it off over his head. Then he slowly unbuttons his shirt, one button at a time, watching Dean’s hungry face as the skin is revealed. He knows enough about human sexuality to know he is engaging in a form of seduction. He just never thought Dean would be so responsive. His pupils are dilated, and his breath is coming quickly, just from the small sliver of skin Cas has exposed.

Dean tentatively reaches a hand across the distance between them and touches Cas with two fingers, just over the breastbone. “Here?” Dean’s voice is husky and thick.

Cas fights the urge to cover Dean’s hand with his own, to pull him close. He’s too afraid of spooking Dean like a skittish horse. Instead, he nods, still holding Dean’s eyes with his own. Cas realizes his breath is coming quickly now, too. Dean moves even closer into Cas’ space, grabbing him by the shoulder. Dean dips his head, replacing his fingers with his lips and pressing a kiss into Cas’ chest. Cas lets out an involuntary gasp at the contact. Then Dean drags his lips up Cas’ chest until his head is tucked into the space in between Cas’ shoulder and neck. He pauses for a long moment and Cas almost panics, wondering if something went wrong. Then Dean says “Where else?”

“What?” Cas blurts out, unable to keep track of the conversational thread with Dean’s scent and skin and breath so close.

“Where else do you want me on your skin?” Dean purrs, nuzzling into Cas’ neck, eliciting another gasp.

“Oh,” Cas rumbles. “Oh, um, there’s very nice.” Dean opens his lips to suck on Cas’ neck just below his ear, probably leaving a different kind of mark as a memorial of Dean’s presence.

Dean pulls Cas roughly by the waist so they are both touching, a solid column of heat. Cas’ hands raise of their own volition to cradle the back of Dean’s head. Dean releases Cas’ neck with a soft ‘pop’ and teases Cas’ earlobe with his tongue. “How about your ear?” Dean asks, and Cas nods his assent, his power of speech rapidly deteriorating. Dean captures the soft lobe in his teeth and nibbles. Cas’ back arches.

“Dean,” Cas interrupts, pulling back enough to see Dean’s face. He’s flushed, hair disheveled from Cas’ hands, eyes wide with wonder and, perhaps, a little fear. “I want…” he gathers his courage and presses his fingertips to his own lips. Cas says “here,” and Dean surges forward, capturing Cas’ lips in a kiss.

The Empty was wrong. There is something for him here.

**Author's Note:**

> First multi-chapter work. Hard to get a feel for the characters, so I made myself alternate POV. I love the idea of Cas dealing with his stuff, too.


End file.
